The Son of the Enemy
by Rare Ship Shipper
Summary: (Modern!AU) Thomas and Philip hooked up in a club one night. Things got heated, until Hamilton went looking for his son. Will the two come clean about their scandalous (and possibly pedophilic) relationship, or keep it under wraps? Rated M for future chapters. (Yea, warning for things that I'm going to Hell for.)


Thomas let his hands wander down the boy's body as he tried to process the situation. Philip, the son of his worst political enemy, was currently grinding against him in this little club in time with the music. It felt wrong, it felt dirty, but the sensation between his legs _felt so good_.

"You do realise that I'm not going to let you touch me unless you're at least 18, right?" Thomas had asked this earlier when Philip was trying to drag him to the dance floor. The age difference alone was disgusting, but it would've been worse had he been a minor.

Philip had laughed. "I know! Of course I'm 18!" It was a lie; he was only 17, but his birthday was in a week, so it didn't matter, right? "And I know how old you are, you kinky fuck~" He didn't know how old he really was, but guessed that he was probably between his late 40s to mid 50s.

Thomas had blushed at the time, mostly at the fact that the younger Hamilton had taken him by the hips and started grinding on him, which led to his current predicament: take Philip home with him or let him be someone else's problem. Seeing as how he needed to keep the boy quiet, as in keep him away from his father so that he could tell him not to mention it, he took Philip by the hand and led him out of the club.

The Virginian silently thanked the fact that he only lived less than a block away in an apartment his job provided. He could afford better, but seeing as how he had his Monticello, he kept it. Philip all but rutted against him as he fumbled to unlock the door, arousal pouring off of him. Eventually he got the key in the lock and unlocked the door.

As Thomas set the keys down, Philip pressed him against the door and kissed him hungrily, wrapping his arms around his neck. The older man kissed him back, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Philip," he whispered huskily, "let's take this to the bedroom."

The younger Hamilton nodded and let him lead him to the room at the back of the apartment. Thomas laid him on the bed and began unbuttoning the shirt he wore, stradled across his lap. Philip squirmed beneath his weight.

"Thomas," he pleaded, arching his back slightly, "you're taking too damn long."

The older man just chuckled and kissed the skin that was revealed with each button he undid. "I want to take my time and admire you. Alexander did something right, for once."

Philip groaned and twisted beneath him. "Please don't talk about my dad. It just reminds me that he'll kill me if he finds out about th-"

Thomas hushed him with a kiss, taking off the shirt. "I won't talk about him anymore." He kissed across his chest and down his stomach, stopping at the top of his jeans. "But God, you're so gorgeous..." He unbuttoned his pants, taking them off in one fluid motion.

He smirked at Philip, slipping his hand down his boxers and gripping his dick. The younger boy swallowed a moan, looking at him needily.

"Thomas..."

Thomas yanked his boxers off and pumped his hand a couple of times, eliciting a loud moan from him. "Do that again for me~"

Philip gasped and bucked his hips, pleading, "Thomas, please!"

He growled and kissed him roughly, quickly undressing himself. As he kissed him, he moved down along his jawline and to his neck, sucking gently at the skin. "I need you Philip," he muttered against him and he trailed his hand down.

"I-"

Philip was cut off by the sound of knocking on Thomas' door, followed by muffled voices.

"Hamilton, do you really need to bother Jefferson at three in the morning?"

"Burr, I don't care if the fuckface was in the middle of sucking Madison's cock! My son never came home and I'm worried!"

That was Burr... And Hamilton was with him.

The two men looked at each other in a state of sheer panic. Thomas scrambled to get a bathrobe on.

"Jefferson! Are you home?"

"Stay here and stay quiet," he hissed to Philip. "Coming!"

Philip laid where he was, trying to will his erection away and think of what to do.

Thomas rushed to the front door, covered only by his robe. He opened the door, face flushed and breathing hard. "What do you want, Hamilton?"

His "enemy", as he privately dubbed him, crossed his arms. "I'm looking for my son. Have you seen him around, maybe? About this tall," he held his hand slightly above his head, "long curly hair, lots of freckles? He didn't come home from hanging out with his friends and I'm worried."

The Virginian thought of a quick lie. "I may have seen him talking to some girl at the club. And by talking, I mean that they were eating each other's faces." He laughed at his little joke. "Maybe he went home with her?"

Hamilton nodded in accord. "That sounds like something Philip would do," he laughed. "Unless he was in there with you."

He felt his stomach knot. "Why would you even think that?"

The other shrugged. "No reason."

Burr rested his hand on his fellow Federalist's shoulder. "C'mon, lets leave him alone. He probably has company."

Hamilton nodded again, apologising (surprisingly) to Thomas for disturbing him and leaving with Burr, chatting about some political thing they were working on together. He didn't move until they were far out of earshot.

"Thomas?" Philip's voice was quiet, needy. "Are they gone?" The creaking of bedsprings followed as the boy got up and walked to where he was, still naked and partially erect. He looked equally scared and aroused.

Thomas kissed him gently. "Yea. Thanks for staying quiet. Imagine what would've happened had your dad or Burr noticed you in any way..." He wrapped his hand around his dick, squeezing it slightly. "Let's get you taken care of."

The only noise for the rest of that evening was the moans of the two as they finished what they started. They decided to deal with the reprucussions in the morning.


End file.
